collapsed.
Debbie finally rolled off him and fell asleep. Wearily, Al got up and staggered into the bathroom. He emptied his bladder and flushed, shaking off his penis, then washing it with a handful of soap and water when Linda entered the bathroom. The two of them looked at each other for a moment, and then her eyes flicked to his extended penis, still as rock-hard as ever. She walked over to him and gripped his throbbing cock as if it were a lever, and the two of them began kissing and fondling. The hard, hot bar of throbbing cock rose between them. It burned against both their bellies. Smiling, Al turned her. Linda got the message immediately and bent at the waist. She stood that way, her hands planted on the closed toilet lid, and he again pushed into her sperm-slick asshole. Standing, he fucked it slowly and rhythmically. Linda, who had been aroused at the mere thought of this again, popped off two rectal orgasms, one after the other. Then it got to Al and he speeded up his tempo, ready to deliver another blast into her ass.
At that moment the bathroom door opened, and Debbie stood there, cursing, saying, “Damn both of you! You’re giving it to her again! You didn’t shoot into me! I’m entitled to this load of sperm.”
“When you’re right, you’re right,” Al told her, and pulling his cock from Linda’s asshole, he grabbed Debbie by the hair, forced her to her knees, and shoved his cock down her throat just in time. Two strokes later, he was firing his next load of seed down her gullet. The pressure of his cock wasn’t enough to make Debbie climax, and before he left the apartment, Al had to make her peak with his mouth.
When he finally did leave, both women were smilingly asleep. He knew the two of them would straighten out, now.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
When Ann Mason came to see Judy Borgen, she was tearful and her face was puffy, as if she had been crying. Judy knew Ann had been behaving because she’d had a good report from Ann’s employer, but she wondered what would make Ann behave so.
“It’s Bert,” she said, referring to Bert Karnstein, one of her other parolees, who had moved in with Ann less than a week earlier.
“What about Bert?” Judy asked, remembering the short man had only reported to her the previous Monday after his Saturday tryout with Ann. It was now Wednesday.
“He’s doing something wrong, I know it,” Ann insisted, her hands folded in the lap of her green dress.
“I’ve spoken to Bert’s employer,” Judy replied. “He has no complaints.”
“You don’t understand,” Ann told her. “He comes to the apartment, does his thing with me, and then insists that I cover for him if anyone should ask about him. He leaves and doesn’t come back until after midnight. He started it Sunday, the day after he moved in. So last night, I followed him.”
“Where did he go?” Judy asked. “Is it another woman?”
“Oh no!” Ann sobbed. “If he went with another woman I’d have known that without following him. He’s as virile as ever every evening. But he went to a warehouse, and I managed to get a look inside. I saw him hanging around with a whole bunch of men who would be considered unsavory. I don’t want Bert to go back to prison, but if I tell him I know where he’s been going, and that I think he’s planning something illegal, he’ll either move out on me, or he might tell the men he’s with, and they’d possibly hurt me.”
“Well then, it seems Bert is going to have to go back and finish his prison sentence. He ought to know he isn’t above the law.”
“Oh no… no…” Ann gasped. “I only told you so you might find a way to stop him from doing whatever it is he’s planning. I don’t want him to go back inside. If you do put him away, he’ll know I’m the one who told you, and when he gets out again, he won’t come back to me.”
“Ann, he’s violating his parole. I’m obligated to do this,” Judy explained to the frustrated white-haired woman.
“Talk to him,” Ann pleaded. “Let him know you’re aware he’s doing something wrong, and if he continues he’ll be put away again.”
“I really shouldn’t,” Judy told her.
“Please!” Ann begged. “You finally gave me a reason to stay straight. I know he’s not much, but he’s all I have. Now that you’ve given him to me don’t take him away.”
Judy looked at the white-haired woman and realized she didn’t want to be the cause of any additional white hairs.
“All right,” she nodded. “I’ll talk to him tonight. I’ll let him know that what he’s doing is wrong.”
“Thank you,” Ann sobbed. “Oh thank you, Miss Borgen.”
It was late afternoon when Ann left Judy’s office, and the curly brown-haired woman had no more appointments for the rest of the day.
She met Al outside, and the two of them had supper at a restaurant, and she told Al what she was going to do. Al disagreed, but when she remained adamant, he let her have her way.
After supper, she left Al and went to the apartment house where Bert Karnstein now lived with Ann Mason. She was about to go in when she saw Bert down the street, walking away, and she decided to follow him.
Bert was walking at an easy pace, unaware he was being followed, though his yellow muffler and blue jacket stood out plainly in the darkening evening. He walked for almost a half hour with Judy following until he came to the waterfront area of San Francisco.
Judy often wondered why anyone wanted to do anything crooked in this particular city. It was the one city in the U.S. that was easier to bottle up than any other. There were only two roads leading out, one large airport, and one seaport. Anyone trying to get away with the police hot on their trail hadn’t a prayer of escaping.
The dock area looked deserted at this time of night. A car quietly passed Judy and Bert, made a right at the corner, and disappeared, and Bert continued his sauntering walk, totally unaware of the car’s existence.
They had crossed the last street now, and were actually walking on the dockside, Judy some fifty feet behind Bert, who hadn’t once looked back, he was so cocksure of himself. He was headed for a large warehouse, and Judy stopped in the shadow of a nearby building, watching as Bert opened a small wooden door in the side of the warehouse, went inside, and shut the door behind him.
She hurried over to the warehouse and began walking around. She found a window with a broken pane of glass. Peering inside, she saw Bert with a half-dozen unsavory individuals, and she heard Bert saying something about a bank as they all stood around a table poring over a diagram.
“Whatchoo lookin’ at, Honky lady?” a voice asked, and Judy turned to face a mean, ugly black man.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Like a razor-sharp cutlass the black man’s icy words had cut into Judy’s concentration. She hadn’t even been aware of his approach, but from the look on his face it was obvious he had intended joining the group of men inside. She backed cautiously away from the man, but in so doing moved toward the little door through which Bert Karnstein had disappeared some minutes before.
Suddenly the door opened and a multitude of faces were peering at her. Before she was able to move, the black man was shoving her through the door, into the warehouse. It was heated with infra-red heaters hanging from the rafters.
Her heart trip-hammering in her breast, Judy turned to Bert, and said, “You won’t get away with this, Bert. Give it up and leave right now, and I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“All my life I’ve been trying to score big,” Bert Karnstein snarled. “This is my big chance, and I’m not gonna let you or anyone else louse it up. One big hit, and I’ll have enough money to take off for Argentina and live the rest of my life like a king. You and that shitty Ann can both go to hell as far as I’m concerned.”
“I’m going to have to report you,” she insisted.
She tried moving toward the door to get out, but one of the men blocked her way, saying, “No you don’t, lady.
